


Love in aisle three

by LadyP15



Category: Crash Pad (2017), Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Clydeland, Fluff, Kylux Adjacent Ship, M/M, Stensland is so lonely, clydeland - relationship - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-05-07 01:56:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14660943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyP15/pseuds/LadyP15
Summary: A new move to Boone county offers Stensland a chance at happiness in the form of a softly spoken bartender..... as long as he doesnt screw it up that is.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Check out my moodboard and come talk to me](https://dressesandcarresses.tumblr.com/tagged/come-talk-to-me-about-clydeland-because-no-one%C2%A0in-irl-will)

“What was that all about?” Taylor enquired, leaning against a batch of unpacked lampshades that Stensland had been checking.

  
“Huh?” Stensland jumped, not realising she had been lingering so near. Feeling jittery and abit of a loss for words over what had happened, he didn't feel able to handle Taylor’s no doubt cutting remarks.

  
He had been getting ready for the unveiling of the new kitchen section at Soft Solutions and so far it had been going pretty well with foot traffic and sales increasing steadily. Since the new move Stensland had thrown himself into work and had found himself to not only be a competent manager, but a damn good one. Being matriculate in detail had not only built up his reputation among his peers, it had also distracted him for the crushing loneliness that had started to wear him down. The move was supposed to be a fresh start and it was in its way, he was a new improved condor; one who smoked and drank less. A more sophisticated individual, one that people did a double take for when he walked by.

  
And the move had helped but due to logistical constraints rather than anything. Leaving the diverse and diverting Seattle, Boone county felt a bit desolate. True people were neighbourly, but Stensland was still a bit unnerved by seeing the same people over and over again. Between settling into his new home and making sure the opening of the shop ran smoothly; There hadn't been time to find the local watering hole or where he could score the best gear. But now some novelty of the move had rubbed off and that old creeping loneliness had started to encroach on him again.

Which is where Clyde Logan had come in; Built like a brickhouse and packed into some snug jeans with a tshirt of a band he had never heard of. Stensland had spotted him lurking around the tile section. Holding up similar tiles to the light with a deep frown on his face. The man looked lost. Seeing a key sale opportunity Stensland had dived in with his well rehearsed sales talk. Clyde hadnt said much, but had mumbled something about decorating his new place. Stensland had proceeded to follow him around the store discussing the various looks Clyde could go far. Venturing questions of what kind of light he was dealing with and if he had any kids to consider.  
All the while Clyde had mostly talked to his shoes between secret glances at Sten, who had politely not commented on it. Probably overwhelmed with his extensive knowledge of kitchen appliance, naturally.

  
Whilst internally congratulating himself on this humongous sale (considering Clyde had only come in to look at tiles), Clyde had lingered at the edge of the bagging area, catching him off guard he had asked Sten out for a drink. Blindsided and after a few seconds of gaping in silence, Sten had agreed.

  
“You’re not gay,” Taylor said, watching him while she chewed the end of her pen.

“Clearly I am full of surprises”. Stensland started to stack the boxes hastily. He wasnt ready for this conversation let alone with Taylor. He wanted to go home, hide under the duvet, smoke a bowl and ask himself what the hell had he been thinking?

“Nah,” Taylor drawled, “You’re a creature of habit.”

  
“Excuse me? I am not”.

  
“Look I’m ace not blind. Your always extra cocky around women you like. For instance, Clara who works at Walmart across the road. The girl who delivers our mattresses every second Wednesday. You know the one with the hair.” Taylor made an exaggerated gesture towards her head at Sten's blank look. ”Or that May who came into buy a sofa bed for her Grandma. Like you’re not at all subtle and I mean at all! And in the 3 months you’ve been here I've never seen you bat an eyelash at any men, including Mr Clyde silent type Logan”.

  
“Her name is Lana she doesn't deliver mattresses, she collects the boxes that store them and takes them to the recycling unit!” Stensland corrected her.

  
Taylor didn't bother to hide her smirk, “ Right...so out of all that, you zone in on the woman’s name. I will reiterate my point for your consideration.” Stabbing her pen for each word at Sten for emphasis. “You are one straight boy."

  
Stensland fumbled with the last box, causing it to slide out of his grasp. Accepting defeat and feeling himself go red Stensland straightened up and turned to look at her, “Look can’t you just be happy for me? Someone likes me enough to willingly spend time with me. Do you know how rare that is? But no of course not you decided to be homophobic instead.”

  
“Cut the crap Sten. I aint got no problem with men going out with men as long as they both fancy each other. Which, in this scenario is a load of bull, since you like women and only women”. Holding her hands up in defence she continued. “I’m not making fun of you, I swear; I just think whatever game you're playing for a bigger sale or something isn't going to pay off with a guy like Clyde Logan.”

  
“Maybe instead of prying, you should get back to stock checking. Your break isnt for another 20 minutes.” Abandoning the disregarded lampshades Stensland quickly turned to leave.

  
“Sten, oh come on wait a sec --”

  
Ignoring Taylor’s calls Stensland power walked into the staff room, slamming the door with a dramatic flare for good measure. Sinking down into a puddle he threaded his fingers through his hair and a let out a long groan of despair. Stensland wasn’t completely ignorant to Taylor’s arguments, they were valid points. But was it so bad what he was doing? People had surely done a lot worse than this for the sake of one date. Anyway didn't everyone have some latent bisexual tendencies ..perhaps very late in this case? It could happen!

  
Clyde seemed steady, reliable and (even though they hadn't talked that much) Stensland got the impression that he was kind. Three traits that Stensland needed in his life. His stomach gave a twinge of guilt at the thought of deceiving this man. This was eased by the thought of his gentle smile, so gentle and so soft Stendsland couldn't help but preen a little at the attention.  Perhaps Clyde would have an obsession with Dawson's Creek and everything would click into place..right? Personality was key and gender was a second thought in the grand scheme of things. It was one date and if Clyde was alarmed at his lack of social skills then that would be it, he could chalk it up to one of his many disaratous social faux pas and leave it at that.  He shouldnt be picky, after all how long had it been since someone had shown interest in him? All he wanted was someone to snuggle with watching a Dawson’s creek marathon. Perhaps with some intense hand holding and with reassuring fingers stroking through his hair. It would be all right he could do this. He hoped.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time the date had rolled around Stensland was a riddled with anxiety and apprehension. That feeling of holding a jar of spiders with the lid nearly off was inescapable, but the thought of dying alone eaten by alsatians kept him from chickening out.

They were meeting at Claddagh, a place he hadn't heard of, a few miles out of town. Despite the certain artificial Irish decoeur, the atmosphere was welcoming and it was a blessing to be out of the humid evening.  Stensland appeased himself that if the fallout was considerable then there was the tiny ray of hope that it wouldn't get back to Taylor, who would no doubt bask in her smugness for weeks .

Waiting in the boothe Stensland pulled at the cuff of his shirt, second guessing the lively pale green print he had donned. Alongside his orange bow tie, he was well aware he looked like a right hipster twat, but if it was going to be a disaster might as well go out with a bit of style.

It was true that he longed for a breathtaking romance, with open mouthed kissing in the rain to the soundtrack to one of his top 40s rom com films. In these fantasies he looked care free in a dashing sort of way, like Hugh Grant in ‘Notting Hill’, as charming as Tom Hanks in ‘You’ve got mail’ and as funny as Heath Ledger in ‘10 things’. Unfortunately he was none of these things; bumbling in a haphazard sort of way, rake thin and about as appealing as a slug. Instead of being overwhelmed with emotions and crying with happiness as most romcoms ended up, women gave him a lot of grimaces. In fact his whole life had been full of people grimacing, all except Clyde; He who had taken a leap  and asked Stensland out not knowing if he was gay. Clyde didn't strike him as someone who broadcasted his sexuality, so approaching Stensland like that must have taken a great deal of courage.

Clyde had offered him a tiny ray of hope, true he was a man, but he wasn’t going to be picky at this stage in his life. He would settle for companionship. Just someone to fall asleep in front of the tv with or exchange stories about their day, or the bare minimum of someone who didn't cringe at being seen with him in public, would be nice. That was all he wanted, really.

When he arrived (precisely at 7 o’clock) Clyde gave him a quick once over and smiled pleasantly, Stensland noticed the tips of his ears were burning. Clyde came across as quiet with a hidden charm, when he smiled his eyes shone and his mustache twitched. In-between ordering a round of drinks and fishing out his wallet, he kept darting glances at Stensland, perhaps checking that he was still there.  Stensland watches him, and notices that his left arm is a high-tech looking prosthetic. _Probably wrestles crocodiles in his down time_ , Stensland mused.

After the first initial awkward few minutes of silence, Stensland broke it, by diving in and bemoaned  the difficulties of setting up shop in Boone County. Clyde was an excellent audience, listening attentively and politely without glancing at his watch as previous dates had done.  “You know.I didnt think there was much to furniture,” Clyde said, “but the way you go on about it, you seem to be a true connoisseur. It’s nice you like your job so much”.

Stenslands insides did a little skip, Clyde was so kind. All of his conversations outside of work had involved a lot of eye rolling, sighing and disbelief when he became so passionate about hardwood flooring. The nicer Clyde was, the worse Stensland felt. Clyde was too decent a person to be trifled with, he had to tell him…. or at least a negotiated version of the truth.

“There's something I need to tell you,” Stensland mumbled bowing his head whilst staring hard at his fork.

Clyde’s body immediately tensed, and he looked up from the menu. “Okay?”

Stensland tried to give a reassuring smile, but beneath the table his sweaty fists had started to crush his well pressed slacks while his converses tapped a rapid rhythm.

“I know you thought that I’m…...but I’m,” Stensland attempted meekly, still avoiding all eye contact with Clyde’s steady honey brown gaze. Clearing his throat, he started again. “I’ve mainly gone out with women in the past,” admitted finally. “And your my first….and what I wanted to say was...just letting you know what my intentions were with regards to…..” Stensland trailed off with the soft look Clyde gave him.

“It’s okay,” leaning forward he placed his large hand on Stenland’s, giving him a reassuring squeeze that made Stensland’s face heat up, “really.” Clyde replied at the look of disbelief that was starting to linger on his face. “The only thing that matters is that your here because you want to be.  And if we have a good time, we’ll go out again and again until you’ve had enough.”

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed with my lack of experience.”

With a quick glance at Stensland’s lips, Clyde  gave him a small bashful smile. “I don’t think that's going to be a problem.”

Despite feeling himself blush, Stensland felt the tension release from his shoulders. It wasn’t the whole truth but with the thought of the truth chasing him away, Stensland just smiled through the guilt that lingered on him and hoped it looked natural.

The date went well after that. Stensland talked at length about his work, his life in Seattle (albeit leaving out the details of his leaving). Clyde didn't even seem bored about his obsession with Dawson’s Creek, he even seem genuinely amused when Stensland confessed to writing fanfiction. “The show just left me bereft! I needed to fill in the gaps.”

Clyde passed quickly over his tours to tell bright and amusing anecdotes about his family and his bar. He seemed especially fond of his niece who was constantly developing new interests, from ballroom dancing to high end cookery shows.

“She had her first day of school last week and I asked her how it went. She said-” Clyde tried to snuffle a snort. “‘It was okay but I wouldn’t go again’”.

Stensland hid a grin behind his hand, he couldn’t believe talking to Clyde was so easy. Taylor had it all wrong, this could really work. On previous dates he had tried to be the bold impressive condor, swooping in with a ‘M’lady’ here and a ‘M’lady’ there, fabricating stories to seem more worldly and attractive. But being with Clyde felt just like being at home, his midwestern drawl was comforting and it was easy to be himself.

Overall the date had gone really well. Clyde had ended up walking Stensland back to his car and departed with a squeeze of his waist, and a short soft kiss to his cheek. Walking away with a small salute, Stensland was rooted to the spot as he watched him depart. Revelling in the warmth of being desired (something that hadn't happened in a very long time), he clambered into his car and could only hope that if he tried hard enough, one day the feeling would be mutual.

 

~*~

“Spill the beans. How did it go?” Taylor had been lurking in the mattress section and had ambushed him when he arrived for his shift.

“Nice. Nice really nice.” Stensland replied studying a price tag of childrens’ mattresses, attempting to answer with an air of one who hadn’t given it much thought.

“When he finds out you’re with him for some misguided reason, shit will hit the fan mon amigo.”

“I think you mean mon ami.”

“Whatever.  The point is Clyde is a Logan! You haven’t lived here long enough to know the Logan family. If you cross them in anyway they'll make you pay, it might not be tomorrow, it might not be next week but they will be your downfall.”

Turning to give her his full attention, he decided to humour her. “Are you saying they are in some sort of mob? Is he going to indoctrinate me into some sort of cult where I’ll have to give away my life savings and wear white cotton pillow cases? Because I can’t do that, white washes me out.” Smirking he turned back to the mattress price list. 

Taylor let out an exasperated snort. “You know what, be on your head. But if the Logans come for you because you broke their little brother’s heart. Don’t come crying to me!”

Not even bothering to look at her Stensland replied, “Your exaggerating. There not criminals”.

Taylor gave him a long look.”Why don't you ask him how a bartender managed to  afford to build that sweet new condo, hmmmm?” Satisfied, that she had trumped him, Taylor saunted away no doubt to have an extended break playing Pokemon. 

Stensland continued with his  price checking. What did Taylor know? Clyde seemed a fine upstanding citizen. He would never hurt him right?

 


	3. Chapter 3

Stensland pushed any doubts that Clyde was secretly in the mob to the side.  He was just too nice. And he seemed to genuinely like spending time with Stensland, from the little he knew about mobsters he couldn’t imagine any of them actually wanting to be friends with him, let alone date him. True, Stensland was hyper aware that his body mass was dwarfed significantly by Clyde’s henchman like build, and sometimes his unrelenting steady gaze was unnerving. But spending time with Clyde was like developing film, the longer he spent in his company the more vivid his personality became. Clyde had an incredibly sweet and patient disposition. Not a trace of mob behaviour insight.

Through the course of the next few dates, they hung out in chilled out locations  such as diners, parks and one surprisingly enjoyable date in a local library (that held a wealth of out of print comics), Stensland discovered they had plenty in common.  They were both fiercely competitive with board games, Stensland preferring Twister and Operation with Clyde liking strategy games like Torpedo.

True, their taste in music was vastly different with Clyde’s preference for Bob Dylan, and Stensland favouring more contemporary  artists like Ariana Grande, but somehow it didn't seem to bother either of them. Stensland soon found himself tapping out the tune to Dylan’s ‘Hurricane’ while stocktaking, and he sweared he heard Clyde hum Ms Swift’s ‘Love Story’ as he helped close up the bar.

Stensland even found himself trying things that he wouldn’t have dreamed of attempting  before, just to make Clyde happy. Only last week had been spent fishing by a peaceful pond. Predictably, the peace had been thoroughly disturbed when Stensland had dropped the fish they had caught and fell into the water in an attempt to re-catch it.  Clyde was never angry but only complained about the stomach ache Stensland had given him from laughing so much. “M-sorry m-sorry m-sorry…..but you should have seen the look on ya face. It was a picture.”

Despite his hair being soaked and his shoes uncomfortably moist, Stensland’s heckles didn't rise from being laughed at so much, any retort that he might have thrown quickly disappeared at the sight of Clyde laughing so openly. Most of the well worn worry lines that Stensland had come to know,  transformed to show a man carefree and happy.  This man who suddenly had no burdens looked years younger and Stensland could only hope that he could encourage him to stick around.

On the walk back to the truck, Clyde seemed to be subtly swaying his hand to bump it against Stensland’s. Taking the hint,  he casually entwined his own with Clyde’s. Surprisingly it didn't feel as awkward and uncomfortable as he thought it might, at holding another man’s hand. It was nice. Clyde’s impossibly enormous hand made Stensland feel grounded and warm all over.   His gaze was everywhere but Stensland, choosing to stare straight ahead. Stensland could tell he was pleased, what with the tips of his ears burning so brightly. The only thing to interrupt  this picture was the comical squelch and squeak of Stensland’s shoes as they made their way back to Clyde’s truck.

The date ended with a soft sweet kiss, under the canopy of Stensland’s house. With Clyde’s hand securely anchored around his waist, Clyde smiles against his cheek, “Can’t believe how tiny you are.”

Stensland gives him a playful shove, “Hey! I have a delicate bone structure is all.”

Clyde doesn’t say a lot when they are together,  but seems happy enough to let Stensland babble about this and that. There's a  quiet energy that Clyde radiates that is constantly comforting.

These pleasant dates take place on warm steady afternoons, were the only unwelcome  interruption to the constant stream of autumn sunshine, are the frequent stabs of guilt for wasting Clyde’s time and affections. This was easily washed away with the amount of warmth Clyde brought into his life. This man, whose gaze is filled with undisguised affection for him, who  actively makes the effort to call him, text, invites to meet his family and is never once embarrassed to claim that there together. He is truly something else.

~*~

Clyde was true to his word when it came to experience. When the dreaded end of these dates neared, Clyde never seemed to look expecting, just quietly hopeful.  Wanting the first time to happen on familiar terf, Stensland had invited him over for late night Scrabble and pizza. Confident in his abilities since he spoke two languages fluently, Stensland was sure of winning easily. But to his dismay Clyde was infuriatingly good, strategically utilising bizarre words to rack up points.

“Dzo?”

“Yer. Treble word score too.” Clyde busied himself in his score sheet, no doubt trying to hide his shit eating grin.

“But- but- but- it's not a thing,” Stensland splutted in indignation, “Scrabble uses real words, you can’t just go making them up.”

“I’m not making anything up.” His eyes dancing with mirth at the sight of  Stensland’s chagrin. “Dzo is a hybrid yak found in Tibet, twas on the Discovery Channel.”  Stensland’s heart flutters wildly at that bashfully proud look that Clyde wore on his face. Over the course of the past few weeks this had started to be a common occurrence, _probably a health issue,_ stensland consceeds sweeping the thought away for another day.

Half an hour later, Stensland had admitted defeat. After washing the plates and storing the leftover pizza, they sat in a comfortable silence, close but not touching, enjoying the rest of their beer. With the help of the fire and the last few streams of sunlight, Stensland’s mismatched living room is cast in a warm earthy glow. Apart from the intermittent sound of the fire quietly crackling, this was drowned out by the heated look Clyde was giving him. All this time Clyde hadn’t pushed or asked for anything that Stensland was uncomfortable giving. Leaning over to take Stensland’s hand, the plaid of his red shirt stretching to show off the thickness of his bicep, his fingers hover slightly over Stensland’s upturned palm. Warmth springs up from his hand at the slight skim of fingertips, where Clyde is silently, patiently asking if he can touch him.  Stensland curls his fingers to meet Clyde’s, to encourage the touch.

He had been expecting this. Cracking earlier that afternoon, he had scored some weed off some dubious looking teens outside of the Soft Solutions parking lot. The lightheadedness had faded, but there's still enough pseudo-confidence to give him the courage to lean into Clyde’s kiss.  Surprising himself, Stensland didn’t feel overwhelmed by the sensation of a pair of pillowy lips softly petting his mouth, nor the heat of  skin or the way he lets Clyde curl a hand around his neck to pull him close. With the body mass of a beast, Clyde is not as heavy as he expects. True,  the moustache was slightly tickly, but overall being this close to someone after being touch starved  for so long was pleasant.

A silent conversation later, Clyde pulls away to soak Stensland in. His robotic hand held his hip lightly but firmly in place.  Clyde’s eyes dart from Stensland’s lips to his eyes, the little lines around his eyes deepen significantly as he takes him in. Stensland felt himself gaping at Clyde’s flushed face, his eyes so dark, they looked black.

“When I first saw you, I couldn’t believe how pretty you were. It hurt to look a you so,” Clyde says carefully, taking a deep breath,“I've never wanted to touch something so bad in my life.” His face so serious.

All this petting and sweet talking makes Stensland feel pliable and deliciously drowsy. His skin alight with goosebumps and what with the stimulation of Clyde’s hair tickling his face and the soft sweet kisses being pressed into his neck, it’s  takes him a minute to process what's just been said. If it was anyone but Clyde he would be inclined to call them out on such a line. He knows he isn't completely without his merits, but he isn't deserving of the title ‘pretty’ either. Pretty is for petals, not awkward boney pale faced gingers.  Something about being compared to something so delicate makes him irrevocably pleased. Being so wanted, made the next steps so much easier.

“Shall I errr.. ummm-?” Stensland asked, fumbling to get to Clyde’s belt buckle. He knows the mechanics, and as long as he could control the instinct to not tense up he was confident that he could make Clyde satisfied.

Happy hums vibrated against his neck, as Stensland pulled Clyde’s pants down . Closing his eyes, he felt the panic fade and focused on the determination to make this as pleasurable as possible. Clyde’s hot length in his hand wasn’t as alien as he expected, and he soon found himself slowly building a rhythm, resulting in Clyde arching suddenly, biting lightly at his shoulder to silence his animalistic groan.

Relieved that he had done his part. Stensland straightened up looking around for a tissue, grimacing at the mess.  Coming down from his high, Clyde’s eyes were bright and dreamy.

“Are you okay?” whilst reaching for a tissue to clean his fingers, “You look a bit lost”.

 “I’m fine.”

Clyde gave him a long hard stare and after a minute he must have been satisfied with what he saw, “Good”.  There's a twinkle in Clyde’s eye that Stensland isn't sure what to make of, as he feels himself being crowded down onto his ice blue sofa.  Efficiently ridding Stensland of his jeans and pants. He pushes Stendsland’s knees apart and puts his mouth on him. Starting out with small licks, moving on to sucking and teasing him. Until Stensland has to use his arm as a muffler and just lets out a wail of pleasure.

~*~  
 

The next afternoon on his lunch break he walked through the depo to sit in the sun, just as Lana passed to do her routine collection. Stensland didn't bother to engage her in conversation, but gave her a small wave anyway. She had never seemed that enthusiastic about talking to Stensland - why would she? He was a manager trying to flirt with her while she was just trying to do her job. She probably had a boyfriend, anyway.  And now so had Stensland.


	4. Chapter 4

On the Sunday, Clyde picks Stensland up in his truck, to take the drive down to his brother’s for a barbecue. Hesitant and fumbling with his words, Clyde had seemed nervous when he had brought up the idea, almost as if Stensland would say ‘no’. Stensland was just bowled over by the fact he cared enough to ask him. Someone wanted to show him off to their family?? Stensland the socially inept wonder?

 The whole ride Stensland spends either staring out the window admiring the scenery, (there are hills tall enough to poke God in the bum) and moaning about inconsequential things, just to get this nervous energy out of his system.  Today his big gripe is Facebook.

“I just don't get it. It’s full of people you know writing about what there doing that day, or if they've eaten a strawberry. If i want to tell people I’ve just eaten a strawberry, I’ll phone them up and tell them “I’ve just eaten a strawberry””.

“I like strawberries,” Clyde replies, “They remind me of you”. He pronounces each syllable of ‘strawberry’ with a delicate emphasis, which Stensland can’t help but be charmed by.

Embarrassed by this warm gaze Clyde has bestowed upon him, Stensland returns his pouting face to the luscious greens that zoom past his window

 Clyde leans over and lightly pinches his ear.

“Ow!”

“They will like ya just fine ya know”, Clyde’s frown shifts into a knowing look, cutting through his facade with expert precision.  “Ya funny and smart and and- ..ya make me happy. So that should be good enough for them”. Clyde’s gaze quickly returns to the road and he looks decidedly hot under the collar.

Stensland marvels at Clyde’s astute observation of what's bothering him. He wonders if he’s this transparent to everyone, or is it just Clyde, that is gifted with these attuned Stensland antennas. Although Stensland’s tongue itches to contradict him, he reasons that Clyde is a man of little words, and Stensland always gets the impression he weighs his thoughts with great care and for him to come out with that...well it must be true. Feeling heartened by Clyde’s comments, Stensland enjoys the rest of the journey in comfortable silence.

Approaching the turn into Jimmy’s street, Clyde’s frown becomes deeper, his shoulders are slumped and his prosthetic hand is twitching with an uneven rhythm, Stensland is relieved that he's not the only one who's nervous.

Pulling up on a long drive that snaked towards a large clapboard house, Stensland becomes aware of the smell of trees and freshly cut grass, with a handful of smiling faces coming to greet them. All seems right in the world. Among the party are Clyde’s brother Jimmy and his partner Sylvia, Clyde’s niece Sadie, who is attempting to put a bow tie on a large german shepherd and his sister Mellie. Sylvia and Sadie greet him warmly, but there is something of a wariness lingering behind the smiles of Mellie and Jimmy that speaks of distrust.

 

After the formalities are over, Clyde fetches him a beer and assists with the barbecue. Stensland is left with Mellie at a rickety table. He fiddles with the beer label and tries to ignore her blatant staring. Like her brother she has the same shape of eyes, but her gaze is  sharper and lacks the flecks of honey that Clyde’s eyes have been blessed with.

A few months ago Stensland would have been thrilled at attracting the attention of this stunning dove. True her slightly tacky sequin top and high waisted shorts aren’t usually the class act he likes to see on women, but she has lucious brown hair  that frames her heart shaped face, as well as the bonus of a top she fills out easily.

“I hope you know what your doing.”

For a wild moment, Stensland thinks she's referring to his life in general, but it becomes obvious when she turns her face to her brother who is playfully arguing with Jimmy about the appropriate way to burn steak.

“Yer I do”. Clyde isn’t the buxom blonde he imagined settling down with, but its a form of happiness nevertheless.

For the first time since he got here Mellie gives him a genuine smile. “You know me and Jimmy were worried about him for a long time when he got discharged. What with being on his own with his arm and all, and the curse.”

“The curse?”

“You mean he hasn't bent your ear off about the curse that has dogged our family for 3 generations?” Mellie shoots him a skeptical look. “He must like ya then”. Replying to his ‘go-on’ look, Mellie rolls her eyes and arches a well groomed eyebrow,  “He’s convinced that we’re doomed to fail at any endeavours, jobs, losing our parents ect…..” Frowning as she picked at her nail varnish, “Actually, come to think about it he hasn't brought it up in ages. Maybe he thinks your his lucky charm and you broke it or something.”

Before he can think of a suitable response. Mellie stands up scraping the chair  backwards and yells, “Hey! Don't even think about dumping your sweaty onions on my burger”, reaching to pull her chair forward, Stensland hears her mumble, “Men don’t know shit about proper burger etiquette.”

Stensland looks over at Clyde, cutting bread and nodding at something Jimmy had said. Seeing him so unguarded and carefree, Stensland is suddenly struck with how handsome Clyde is. Clyde’s long dark hair is tied back into a neat ponytail and the glum look he usually wears has been replaced with a quiet smile that could make even the stubbornest parts of Stensland yield. He’s perfect, kind, caring Clyde.

Perhaps feeling a steady look upon him, Clyde glances up and returns his gaze. Stensland felt a warm jolt of happiness travel down his spine and rest in his chest, the party’s murmurs fading into the background, as a striking clarity suddenly hits Stensland. He was happy; he was in love.

Clyde the warm, engaging man whose steady presence grounded him. Stensland couldn’t think of why he had been alone for so long? What was it about him that he had made the exception to end his solitude?

Shifting in her seat, unaware of Stensland’s startling epiphany, Mellie returns her attention to him, “My brother is a gentle giant with a fragile heart.” Stensland cringed, Oh god the don’t hurt my baby brother speech, Stensland prayed it wouldn’t last long.

“He’s the best man I know. My heart ached thinking about him all alone in that desolate cabin for so long even though it was out of choice. These past few weeks I’ve seen a mighty fine change in him, he practically skips to work and he looks like he sleeps with a coat hanger in his mouth. So I just wanted to thank ya for the being the lightswitch that made all that darkness that dragged him down go away.”

“Okay?” Stensland still felt unsure where this was all going. “I  think Clyde’s done more for me than I have for him, but aren't you going to give me the ‘hurt him and I carve out your heart speech?’”

“Ha!” Mellie took a large gulp of her beer and wiped her mouth on her hand, “Oh Stensland, you seem like a smart guy, did you really want me to spell it out for you?” Reaching over she took his hand and gave him a surprisingly tight squeeze with a set look in her eye. ”I’m sure you'll do fine by my brother”.

The ‘or else’ went unspoken.

The intense stare wasby the demands of Sadie, asking Stensland to see her bow collection. Relieved at the distraction, Stensland gladly allowed himself  to be pulled into the house. Flicking a wave at an amused Clyde, he is hurriedly dragged past the barbecue through a set of french doors, up a winding staircase and into a brightly pink lit room. The next 45 minutes are spent helping her organise hundreds of bows into categories from evening wear to day wear.

“This one's my favourite,” shoving a black and white striped bow under his nose, “ I can wear it like this”, putting it on her head, “or like this,” placing it on her neck like a bow tie. “ So if there's a wedding in the morning and a funeral in the afternoon, I can be ready like that!” Snapping her fingers for emphasis.

“That’s very forward thinking of you.”

“Thanks”, Sadie smiled broadly and Stensland is immediately struck how much of Clyde is in her, with her cute dimples and little buck teeth.

Shortly after, they return to the party and end up sitting in the shade of the willow that dwarfs the rest of the lawn, side-by-side. Chatting away about inconsequential things, occasionally stopping to watch the sun slip below the horizon.

A few times, Stensland feels the eyes of Jimmy on him, glancing at his and Clyde’s entwined hands, its an enigmatic look not a disapproving one, but one Stensland can’t pin down. Jimmy doesn’t say anything, but soon returns his stare to the willow hanging over head.

After Mellie had piled them with enough leftovers to last them days, Stensland is relieved to be going. He's suddenly in need of some one on one quality Clyde alone time.

On the drive home Clyde takes his hand and gives him a reassuring squeeze. Stensland bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself smiling too goofily, as a bright and fluttering happiness descends on him. He’s so caught up in the scenery sweeping by and the warm giant hand that is stroking the inside of his wrist, that it takes him a moment to realise they are not going back to his house, but are pulling into an unfamiliar road.

“Ummm?”

“This is my home,” Clyde replied simply.

Stensland had never been to Clyde’s home before, as it’s a bit far out of the way and he was wary of what would be expected of him if he did visit.  So when Clyde parked in a wooded clearing, with a well lit path to a heavily wooded lot, Stensland couldn’t help but stare in surprise at the house. Although clearly newly built and modern, the house was very Clyde, with its exterior clad in timbers and river stones embedded in the walls. Stensland wonders how a bartender can afford such a nice place, but a small voice inside his head, tells him not to press it.

“Do you like it?” Clyde asked.

Stensland could hear how pleased he was at Stensland’s reaction. Stensland marvels at being brought here, Clyde is a very private man so this is not a small admission by any standard.

“It’s lovely.”

Clyde grunts in agreement and leads the way up a pebbled path to a large beech door. The inside too, doesn't disappoint with huge arching windows, gracing them with a spectacular view of the forest.  Stensland internally pats himself on the back for his en point Soft Solutions furniture choice, because the whole joint looks popping.

Embedded in the wall is a collection of family photos, posters of unnameable rock bands and battered comic books that are squished onto a bursting bookcase. Littered on the floor under the tv is an array of vhss. A closer look reveals that they are all Dawson’s Creek.

Preening at the look Stensland gives him, Clyde rubs the back of his neck and ducks his head, “I managed to track them down on vhs, since you said they ‘helped recreate the 90s aesthetic’”. Glancing up he gives Stensland a sheepish look, “I am only about two seasons in, maybe if ya want we could start season 3 together?”

Something twanged in Stensland’s chest, no one had invested this much time in something he cared about. Grady had dismissed it immediately out of hand and none of his other friends/girl friends had made the effort, but here was Clyde who was so far from the target audience. Stensland felt his eyes water in gratitude, “That sounds great.”

The next few hours are spent curled up on the battered sofa (that Clyde said had been a hand me down from his parents that he refused to part from) with their legs entwined. The rain beat a gentle rhythm against the french windows, as Clyde remained contently quiet, only adding an agreeing hum or nod to Stensland’s commentary, whilst twirling and untwirling his fingers in Stensland’s hair.Around the fourth episode into season 4 Clyde had fallen asleep, head buried in Stensland’s neck, and although he felt very comfy, he was concerned Clyde’s was going to get a crick in his neck.

Slowly moving to try and ease the pressure of Clyde’s weight on him, Clyde makes a low growl of displeasure, “Baby I was comfy”.

Stensland immediately stills, “Did you just call me baby?” Stensland would go to his grave before admitting it but the name caused his heart to perform a strange, little hop in his chest. Eyes now open, Clyde visibly swallows but doesn't say anything,  Stensland guesses that he feels a bit embarrassed or surprised at letting the pet name slip out; It's hard to tell sometimes when his facial expressions range from small frown to large frown. Stensland notes that his ears are bright pink, a sure indicator of the prior.

 Stensland chuckles, “Its cute.” He leant forward to kiss the wrinkle that appeared on his forehead away. “I'm just going to put the kettle on. Do you want a drink?”

Without waiting for an answer, Stensland untaffles himself and ambles his way into the kitchen, flips the kettle on and sets two mugs out. Not long after, he feels Clyde lean heavily against him, pinning him to the kitchen counter, and puts his face in Stensland’s neck and breathes him in.

“I don't need help, I can make a cup of tea.”

“I know”, Clyde replies sniffing at Stensland’s hair that smells like strawberries, “ I just missed ya.”

As the kettle pinged, Stensland felt a series of soft chaste brush of lips, from the base of his neck, to his jawline, to behind his ears. With solemn confessions of ‘I love you’ departed for each one. Stensland thought he might spontaneously combust from these declarations. Or burst into tears. Clyde’s hand grips his waist, a hand so big it makes Stensland’s face heat up. Slowly, he turns to face Clyde, who looks so earnest and so happy to have Stensland responding to his touches. Their chests press together, both breathing heavily, hearts trying to beat their way out of their ribcages. Clyde’s eyes flickered between his lips and eyes, pecs rise and fall as he breathes.

Dangerously attractive, Clyde is a man of strong convictions, unwavering in his devotion, why on earth is he with Stensland? Not wanting to make Clyde question his decision, Stensland gives a silence yes to an unasked question, by leaning forward, Clyde tilts his head back in response bringing their lips close together. Trembling like soft tentative butterfly wings. The remaining cells that are still able to form a thought, note that this is truly a kiss worthy of Hollywood, one that scholars will fawn over for generations to come. Putting his hand in Clyde’s hair he's pleasantly surprised how smooth and light it is.

This was the moment, Stensland thought, when the film would cut away, because Clyde’s hand started to wander south attempting to slip into the back of his jeans and grab a handful. The kiss started to get rougher and far more urgent, Stensland braced himself for it to become more strange. He waited for the deafening internal alarm that never came.  

The smell of warm skin and Clyde’s hair tickling his face make the whole experience like sliding into a gentle whirlpool. Spreading his hands across Clyde’s broad chest, enjoying the subtle sculpted curves to it, and felt nothing but an instant need to become as close to Clyde as possible.

Clyde moved away from his lips and pressed his forehead against Stensland’s and  smiled against his cheek. “Would you like to stay the night? We don't have to do anything, but I’d like it if you stayed”. Clyde looked thoroughly kissed. His hair was a mess from Stensland’s constant caressing and his lips were wet and rosy,  the pupils of his eyes that never left Stansland’s face were blown wide.

Stensland only misses half a beat when he replies, “I’d like to do things and stay.” Stensland was no longer surprised about how honest he was.

Clyde looked like his brain had short circuited after hearing those words. “Okay, um are you sure?”

Stensland scrunched up his face, “Clyde! Stop pussyfooting around, now take me to bed before I go find someone who knows how to show me a good time.”

Not needing any more encouragement, Clyde scooped him up easily, ignoring Stensland’s indignant  squark and proceeded to unceremoniously barge through his bedroom, to demonstrate what kind of good time he had in store for him.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic rating has gone up.

The morning after, Clyde spends completing his household chores and replaying last nights activities in exquisite detail. He knew that eventually it would happen, but had  been surprised that Stensland had agreed so readily. A lot of his fantasies had taken place where he would take Stensland out and lavish him with flowers at a high end restaurant, ending with a bed covered in roses and surrounded by candlelight.

It hadn’t really gone down that way.

He had, willingly taken Stensland back, but it had been an impulse decision based on how happy and relaxed Clyde had been. He’d  been highly embarrassed about the state of his room, before going to pick Stensland up he had been rearranging his vhs collection and had lost track of time, thus leading to a cluttered array of videos on the floor.  His bed although made, didn’t have fresh sheets on. The room had lacked the imperative candlelight with only the buzzing of fireflies dancing merrily outside of his window, and to his horror he found one lonely dirty sock hanging mockingly outside of the laundry bin.

Clyde was appalled.

Groaning in shame he tried not to think of what his mother or his last army sergeant would have made of this tardy behaviour. Thankfully, Stensland isn't as meticulous as him. Anything that aggravates Clyde, washes over Stensland like a wave.  He’s so care free and easy to be around, Clyde never feels pressure to be someone hes not, and Stensland couldn't care less if hes quiet and doesn't say much.

Darlin Stensland, always bursting with thoughts and charisma. There isn't anything he loves more than watching him get animated about things  he's passionate about, with the hand waving and an excessive grin. Clyde thinks hes a good balance for Stensland too. Sometimes he gets too wound up or that sad little pout appeared when something didn’t work out as he had wished, Clyde can’t  help but kiss it away, which is always met with a small cute smile in thanks.

Satisfied with the living room, Clyde surveyed the kitchen and scowled  in disapproval at the one impudent fork in the sink. Thinking back on his perfect ideal date, he appeased himself that Boone County had a distinct lack of high end restaurants anyway.  He also reasoned that this might not have been what stensland would have wanted, what with his tendency to try too hard to impress people. Clyde supposed that a private setting would make him feel less self-conscious; A trait that Clyde noted,  Stensland had desperately tried hard to hide.

Behind all his bravo, he was sensitive of his inadequacies, especially of anyone laughing at him. Clyde had picked up on this quite early on, when he laughed a little too loud at sex jokes, or jumped up to make  popcorn, or excused himself to use the bathroom when things had started to get heated. Stensland did anything to avoid any situation where he would be perceived as lacking in some way. Clyde never commented on it, but he had a deep suspicion that someone had said something to shake his confidence and  break his trust to leave such a deep scar.

Aggressively scrubbing the already meticulously clean countertop, Clyde frowned and reflected that he had done his utmost not to intrude on Stensland’s boundaries. He hadn’t been deterred by their slow progress, but had cherished every moment, especially  when Stensland trusted him to touch a bit more of him each time they were together. His stomach had done an unprompted somersault when Stensland had taken his hand without prompting, and he swore he had heard a hallelujah chorus when Stensland had lent into kiss him without looking like a frozen deer caught in a pair of headlights.

There had been moments when Stensland had looked too cute for words and all Clyde had wanted to do was gather him in his arms.  Clyde had stored these memories in his ‘Stensland safe’; To be only opened when he was alone.

Before the creation of the ‘Stensland safe ’the day dreaming had been a bit of a problem. Only two weeks into dating, he had let a kegger overflow because he had been thinking about what it would have been like to have Stensland seated atop of him, bouncing in his lap. He had needed a good five minutes to cool down after that. When confiding in Jimmy about the problem he had all but laughed claiming if Stensland took up anymore room in his head, Clyde would have to start charging him rent.

Moving to the bedroom to strip the sheets of last night's activities, Clyde mused on what else he could have done to make the night more relaxing for Stensland. Although shy there was no hesitation in Stensland’s touches. Clyde had been imagining for along time what it was like to caress Stensland,  and the experience had thoroughly lived up to his expectations.

Tentative at first. Stensland had been slightly skittish making it feel like he was kissing an electric current, one that left him with a pleasant tingle and arm hair standing on end. It didn't even seem to be a big deal when he took his proseptic arm off. Stensland had just laid back against the pillows; One broad hand cupping his stump, making Clyde feel grounded and warm all over.

Digging out new sheets from under the beds draws, Clyde reflected that it had been everything he hoped for.  Pausing in his bed clothing selection, Clyde thought back to how Stensland had smiled up at him as he had stripped him of his clothing, kissing each new bit of exposed skin with a benevolent reverence.

 _Stensland had closed his eyes, perhaps unintentionally, omitting  soft moans and sighs as Clyde touched him carefully._ _Unlike outside of the bedroom Stensland was extremely non-verbal, as soon as Clyde touched him all rational thought seemed to  leave his head, and could only moan and nod in response._

_Stensland’s skin had tinged with a delicate shell-pink blush, that had spread from his cheeks, down his chest and rested on his thighs. He had lacked Clyde’s ugly scars, but had flawless creamy skin with perfect little rosy nipples, which to Clyde’s delight were beautifully responsive. A few precious minutes were spent  playing with them, sucking them gently, whilst stensland had mewled under him._

Wrapped up in hazy thoughts of silk scarves being tied around those delicate wrists, Clyde idly wondered if laying Stensland out completely bare and sucking on his dainty nipples, would be enough to make him come. Although he had never broached the subject, Clyde had a good feeling Stensland wouldn’t be adverse to being tied up  or adorned in lace.

A few weeks ago he had been waiting in Stensland’s living room as Stensland had charged upstairs to get ready, having arrived late home from work. Sitting down on his ice blue couch, Clyde had disturbed Stensland’s laptop and brought up a page of Dawson’s Creek fanfiction. Titled “Enticement”, it had various risque themes of an AU set in a burlesque club, Clyde quickly scrolled to the bottom of the page and found Stensland’s comment.

**_“OMG, this is so sensual. If only i could find someone to do this irl for me LOL XD!!”._ **

Snapping the laptop shut at the sound of Stensland’s descending footsteps from the staircase, Clyde tried to wipe the thought of his plush bum draped in satin. Clyde would have to be keenly but carefully encouraging if Stensland ever brought it up on his own. Just the thought of Stensland wearing a lacy thing under his Soft Solutions uniform was enough to get him hard.

Shaking himself out of his musings, Clyde shook the duvet. It would take awhile to build up Stensland’s  confidence anyway, but that didn't stop Clyde wondering if he could save money if he ordered in bulk.

Moving to the other side of the bed to open the windows and let some fresh air in.  Clyde found his concentration slipping again, as he remembered the feeling of overwhelming affection course through his veins and bloom in his chest, as Stensland placed his trust in Clyde as he took him for the first time.

 _Clyde moved inside him and Stensland gripped his hand tightly, as if he never wanted to let go._ _For the first couple of tentative minutes, Clyde had remained still letting Stensland get used to the feeling, during which time Clyde said nice things about Stensland’s body and how good it made him feel, and listed a few examples of when he looked so pretty Clyde had wanted to take him right there, had there been the right opportunity. The compliments and endearments had hopefully eased the discomfort and allowed Stensland to relax and encourage Clyde to move._

_Clyde had tried to make his thrust soft and steady, not wanting to overwhelming with a fullout rut. When he found himself deliciously deep inside, Stensland had quickly clapped a hand on his mouth to stop an undignified moan from escaping._

_Clyde had smiled and whispered in his ear, “Oh darlin is that your sweet spot?”_

_Feeling rather than seeing Stensland’s shaky nod. Clyde bit his lip and tried to touch it again. Sharp sounds of ‘Oh’ and joyous shouts  soon followed. The blankets were fully entangled with their legs and the headboard tapped an even rhythm in time with their harsh but stuttered breathing._

_“It’s alright, my love, relax relax you’re nearly there”, Leaning up on one forearm to caress Stensland’s hair and  cheek. “I’ve got you. You’re so close and-, yes, my darlin, there you are, shh-”_

_Clyde tried to make soothing sounds while wiping Stensland’s tears, but they were drowned out by the racket Stensland was making, which could only be interpreted as someone being murdered._

_Clyde had quickly followed, his hips shuddering as he pressed his forehead against Stensland’s, letting out a heartful growl. Both damp with sweat, Stensland found Clyde’s hand and gave each knuckle a kiss._

_They laid together afterwards, legs entwined just enjoying skin on skin contact, until at last Stensland had stirred and asked the question Clyde had been dreading._

_“So this house…,”  Clyde watched Stensland’s eyes flick around the room, resting anywhere but Clyde’s soft gaze._ _It’s not a secret.  The whole town must have had a hunch how a bartender on the edge of penury, suddenly has enough wealth to build his own home, on the backdrop of a local grand prix losing a lot of money._

_Heart lodged in his throat and gut clenched he tells Stensland some vague details about the heist, leaving out names, but enough to let Stensland feel his trust in him._ _Stensland listens, barely breathing as Clyde explains the escape, meanwhile perhaps unaware that he slowly strokes the dip of Clyde’s collar bone, giving Clyde the courage to press on._

_After he had finished, Stensland look of awestruck is replaced with a growing smile. “Gawd! How are you so cool?” Stensland asks. “ You are!”, he adds reassuring Clyde when a look of disbelief  passed over his face. “ You're this war hero, whose this cowboy gentlemen, doing crime on the side like some kind of western robin hood. And for some baffling reason your with someone like me who can’t even pull off-”_

_Clyde lets him ramble as a wave of contentment washes over him. Stensland smells of sex, and that nice fruity shower gel he uses, and he doesn't despair at his criminal past. Nuzzling his face into his shoulder, he just breathes him in as Stensland rambles about the movie stars he's never heard of and hopes that scent will be engraved on his memory forever more._

Scanning the room once again for any mess, Clyde notices a tiny plastic Pokemon hanging precariously on the bedside counter, attached to it is Stensland’s cell phone. In his rush to get an uber and make it for work Stensland must have left it behind in the hurry. Clyde had been completely unhelpful attempting to drag him back into bed at every opportunity. By the shoulder, by his hand, then finally his ankle, until Stensland had to do a full on body wiggle to escape from his unrelenting grip.

Grasping an opportunity to see Stensland sooner than planned, Clyde grabbed his phone and headed out to his truck. Stensland would be surprised yet pleased surely? Maybe he would be on his lunch break and they could catch up on the four hours they had been apart for.

Pulling out of his drive, Clyde couldn’t help but notice that the weather was mimicking his mood. The last days of autumn were celebrating with joyous colours of royal reds and warm oranges, littering the road leading a trail to Stensland’s work.

He smiled to himself, eager to witness Stensland’s look of surprise when he dropped by. This smiling business had become a common occurrence. Nobody could describe Clyde as an expressive man but he had found him smiling a tiny bit more now that Stensland had barged into his life. Mellie called them “Stensland’s smiles”, generally when he was daydreaming about Stensland/looking at Stensland or talking to Stensland on the phone. Mellie said he looked like a different man.

Biting the inside of his cheek to stop a full out grin from engulfing his face, Clyde turned into the Soft Solutions parking lot and reflected that maybe Mellie had a point. From the moment this eager puppy of an Irish man had landed in his sight, Clyde couldn't believe his luck.  While he was prattling on about pjays zones and trying to upsell him something about optimal leisure spaces, Clyde just kept thinking, _Oh so this is how its supposed to feel, where have you been all this time, I think we can make each other happy._

If Stensland had asked Clyde to buy the whole shop he probably would of done so.  When feeling brave he darted glances at him, admiring those very soft eyes that crinkled at the edges when he smiled, and hair that looked even softer. Clyde’s fingers had itched in want of touching. Probably used one of those swanky fashion brands like Tony & Guy. Clyde's mouth had watered at the thought.

For a Monday morning the parking lot of Soft Solutions was relatively busy, considering  the novelty of the store might have worn off by now, but business was still steady. Trying not to walk to eagerly, Clyde weaved his way through the crowds, waving half heartedly at the patrons he recognised. Making his way to the well lit store room at the back of the showroom, his heart sped up a bit when he heard the graceful tones of Stensland from behind a forklift.

“Clyde and I depend on each other, we’re a good balance, like…...weights.”

“Weights?” a deadpan voice replied.

Feeling flattered that Stensland talked about him at work, Clyde hovered around a shelf and strained to hear the rest of the conversation over the general bustel of customers from the shop floor. Peeking around the gap he could see Stensland’s flame like hair, messy like he had been dragged through a bush, it poked out at odd directions, but looked adorable nonetheless. His uniform looked crumpled with an untucked shirt, still pale but there was a determined flush on his cheeks as he and a coworker attempted to move an awkward bed frame off the forklift.

Pausing behind a shelf he wondered the best way to greet him, he didn't want to embarrass Stensland in front of his colleagues. Deciding on a low key ‘hi’ , Clyde stepped out of his hiding place, reaching up to  adjust his baseball cap to try and get rid of some nervs.

Stensland’s next parting remark made all rose tinted thoughts leave him, to be replaced with the icy feeling of dejection and humiliation.

“It’s not really like that,” Stensland said casually, “I’ve never been gay for Clyde, he was just convenient at first, nice to be around and we just got used to each other and-”

Perhaps feeling a pair of hurt eyes on him, Stensland turned and froze. A hurt that he had never experienced travelled up the back of his chest, pressing behind his eyes. This was worse than losing his parents, losing his hand. Stensland had just ripped everything away in a handful of seconds, taking away any comfort he had fostered.

Instead of the flames of hot anger, Clyde felt nothing but the icy hand of hollow loneliness squeezing at his heart. It had all been a lie.  He would be alone again, no more fishing trips, no more sweet kisses with Discovery Channel playing in the background and no more late night Scrabble games.

Nights laying in the dark, awake, lonely and afraid.

A future of awkward family picnics stretched out before him, looking away from happy couples and avoiding pitying glances from his siblings. Heart beating a rapid fire in his chest, mind racing at this miserable future.  An insidious voice that had been absent for so long crashed in on him against his will, screaming with delight that this was the curse and any attempts of warmth happiness or comfort had always been doomed to fail.

He was a Logan after all.

Back straight, eyes narrowed  he dropped the phone on the floor and left not saying anything, ignoring Stensland’s calls or any hails of friendly neighbors that he passed.

It was over, he was better off alone anyway.

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

Revelling at the feeling of Clyde smiling against the back of his neck, flush against him, with his fingers tracing an indistinguishable pattern down his front. Stensland had genuinely struggled with an internal war of skipping work and snuggling down into the warm cocoon of Clyde’s embrace, at the offset of abandoning incompetent young sales team to a delivery of bed frames. Conceding that there would be hundreds, _ney_ thousands more mornings to wake up leisurely in Clyde’s arms, Stensland had left in a hurry before he succumbed to the pull  of wanting to burrow as close to Clyde as possible.

All through the morning he had been walking on air in a very _500 days of Summer_ kind of way. True, there had been no passers by ready to break out into a well choreographed dance routine, but ‘Come and get your love’ by Redbone had been playing on the radio as he had pulled into the Soft Solutions parking lot, and even the sun was celebrating with its joyous rays warming the cloudless sky, pleasantly so. Even Taylor’s grumpy morning greeting couldn't dampen his spirit as he opened up shop for the day.

Through sales pitches, stock checking and shift schedules, Stensland had been kept a float  with the thought of being in love. True, it wasn’t the fireworks and electricity that the romantic comedies had promised him, it was better. Clyde’s love was like a lighthouse in a storm, a steady reassuring presence, that never wavered no matter how harsh life got.

He anchored Stensland. Always warm, kind hearted giant  of a man ready to listen to Stensland’s mad schemes with a patient understanding tinged with bemusement. Stensland felt his heart flutter at the thought of returning the three little words that Clyde had eagerly whispered into his ear the previous night.  He had been a bit overstimulated at the time, and a bit lost and then the moment had passed, but there was always tonight and then they'd be on the same page about everything! Mind made up, Stensland continued with a happy go lucky attitude, humming tunelessly as he went about his work. Even the breaking of the forklift couldn't break his confident stride. Whistling, he started to cut the protective tape around the bundles of bed frames so they could attempt to shift each one individually.

“Someone's way to cheerful for a Monday. Is this a side effect of the ‘boyfriend’,” Taylor wiggled two-finger peace signs into air quotes. “If it is, I hate to say it, but this whole thing is really working for you.”

“Umm, didn’t your break finish over 20 minutes ago?” Stensland replied evenly,  “Please come and help me get these unloaded. I want the area clear before noon.” Bending his knees, Stensland made a pathetic noise as he attempted to shift one of the bed frames, but to no avail. Swearing, he dropped it with a mighty clang and wiped his sweaty hands on his already crumpled shirt.

Clicking her tongue in amusement, Taylor joined him at the opposite side and together they slowly edged the bedframe off the forklift.

“Anyway, It’s not a phase,” Stensland huffed. “It’s real.”

“So what, Clyde is the ultimate gay? Man he must be something if he turned your head.” Throwing her weight against the bedframe, it finally shifted with a satisfying clang.  Leaning against the shelves behind her, Taylor surveyed him mischievously, “Come on soothe my curiosity. What’s he like? I’ve basically known him since I was the size of a loaf of bread, and never much exchanged more than  a ‘hey’ and ‘good day’. Whats the mysterious man all about?”

Stensland shook his head, “He’s not flawless, he has his bad days, I've seen them”, he replied truthfully, “But for me he's perfect.” Stensland felt his cheeks heat, outside of his internal diary there hadn't been anyone to confide in. Looking across at Taylor he notices her expression isn't filled with her usual cynicism but  was watching him with curiosity.

She raised her eyebrow. “So this isn’t a pretence any more? This is the real deal, the whole white wedding, harps and shit?”

“Well maybe not white wedding...but yer.”

Taylor’s face breaks into a jubilant grin, “Stensland! I just thought this was a way for you to get a sale, I didn't know you guys were in love.”

Stensland felt something unloosen in his chest, it's nice to share this with someone, even if it is a 19 year old who has an alarming obsession with Pokemon. To admit that this original hair brained scheme that was borne out of loneliness and desperation, has finally born the fruit of the beginnings of a warm and loving relationship, is a weight off Stensland’s shoulders.  To confide in someone about this sudden softness in his life, makes breathing so much easier. Not that he expected that much of a homophobic reaction...but well this is West Virginia not LA. He never considered having a relationship with a man, maybe its the rampant hetrosexualness he grew up with, or maybe its just that he never met a man like Clyde. Now he cant even dream of being with anyone else, no one else makes him feel so cared for and so safe.

No one else feels like home.

If Lana from the recycling unit sporadically decided to show up with her ampul bottom and her shapely legs and state she was ready to elope with him, Stensland wouldn't even bat an eyelid.  Not that he was completely immune to women’s bodies now that he was dating Clyde. He could still appreciate the female form, they just didn't get his heart beating the way Clyde’s did.

Stensland felt hot all over just thinking of the way Clyde had looked at him the previous night. His gaze had been filled with tenderness, hunger and undisguised affection.

 

_Laid flat on his back with Clyde hovering over him, Stensland is close enough he can see the flecks of a honey in Clyde’s eyes, the way his pupils dilate, black expanding into warm browns, omitting small purrs of pleasure with each bit of clothing he removes. Pressing his face into each new unseen bit of flesh, play biting and muttering praise._

 

_Stensland’s breathless at the thought, no one had looked at him like that._

 

_Even afterwards when Clyde had drifted off, Stensland marvels at the fact he is allowed this; Clyde curled up warm in his arms, trusting and vulnerable, with his history of PTSD and his general predisposition to be a loner, Stensland had felt privileged and extremely protective of him as they laid there, cocooned under the embroidered quilt in their own little world._

 

_Coffee black eyelashes fluttered against his cheek as he dreamed, Stensland had traced the curves of his chest, his biceps, his elbow, his neck, hovering over his pulse point, before he was satisfied. Categorising every freckle, savouring the moment, praying to some unseen deity that he can keep this._

Stensland catches himself before he loses himself in this daydream, but judging from Taylor’s smug grin he's failed spectacularly.

“Oh man, you’ve got it bad,” Taylor said. Doing a series of weird stretches, she lumbers up and grabs the end of the next awkward bed frame and wiggles it at Stensland as a hint for him to do the same. “So what does it make you like soul mates or something?”

Reaching down to grip the other side, Stensland grimaces at the sound his knees makes in protest. “Soulmates? I don't know maybe. I think we found each other when we both needed it. Clyde and I depend on each other, we’re a good balance, like…...weights.”

“Weights?”Taylor deadpanned.

Stensland ignored her. “We’re like two otters holding hands in the stream of life, like Taylor Swift and Tom Hiddleston if it had all worked out, like-”

“Okay I get it, I get it,” Taylor rolled her eyes, grunting in effort to get the bed frame further away from the forklift. “So what does this make you then? Bi? Or did Clyde bring something out in you, that you didn't know was hidden?”

“It’s not really like that,” Stensland said casually, “I’ve never been gay for Clyde, he was just convenient at first, nice to be around and we just got used to each other and-”

Catching something in his peripheral vision, Stensland turned abruptly to see a stoic Clyde stood half hidden behind a shelf. In that instance, Stensland could swear that all the air suddenly disappeared from the room.

Stensland froze. Taylor froze.

They looked at each other for awhile unmoving. Clyde’s face trying to desperately hide behind a mask of indifference, but because he had come to know this face so well, Stensland could spot the endless sadness that was embedded within him.

A voice in Stensland’s head railed, _No No No! Clyde was never allowed to look sad, this was all wrong what had he done._

“No, Clyde just -” Stensland said, wishing Clyde would believe him. Wishing it didn’t have to end this way. But Clyde was already shutting down. All the small careful smiles that Stensland had grown so fond of, slipped off his face. He turned abruptly away from him. Then he was gone and Stensland was left calling after him, gripping one edge of the heavy bedframe as he stood in the middle of the stockroom, unable to follow.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be the last chapter update in awhile. I've got a lot of real life commitments coming up, but rest assured i've not completely abandoned clydeland.

The rest of the day was spent under a cloud of anxiety, despite possibly ruining the best relationship he had ever had, Stensland was still the manager on duty and had a job to do. This didn't stop him from trying to call Clyde at every free moment. Infruitately he was repeatedly met with the gentle timber of his voicemail that promised to call him back.

Taylor had tried her best to cheer him up, but to no avail. “Look Stens, anyone would be freaked out about the Taylor relationship comparison, it was doomed to fail”, at the look of Stensland crestfallen look, she added weakly, “I’m sure he’ll come around, maybe he just needs some space?”

But Stenslad didn’t want space. Stensland’s life had been filled with spaces. Always alone at the end of parties, alone at the drop  of the New Year’s Ball, alone on Saturdays watching Dawson’s Creek reruns. Before, it had been pretty grim, but now he know what its like to have a plaid wearing beef cake in his life, loving him unconditionally without any reservations. The thought of this giant shaped hole engulfing him, made him down right miserable.

Deciding to take the bull by the horns, Stensland drove over to Clyde’s bar. It was just after 5 and Stensland hoped he’d avoid the post work bar rush. Summoning up the last inch of courage he possessed, Stensland opened the door to Duck Tape to be met with the familiar sight of the well lit bar and with a mild mannered bartender wiping down the counter.

Stensland tried to take courage from the familiar sight, Clyde didn’t look particularly upset, shoulders hunched as he attacked an invisible stain on the counter with a persistent rubbing, that was perhaps a bit too enthusiastic.  Taking a deep breath he attempted to take strength from this image, maybe he wasn’t affected by the passing remark as he feared and had already formed a rationall explanation to what he had overheard.

Despite the earliness of the evening, only a handful of patrons were there, clothes dusty from another dry day, they talked happily among themselves. ‘For what its worth’ by Buffalo Springfield was playing over the general hum of chatter. Stensland attempts to take heart from this very typical Boone county setting, nothing bad could happen here, right? This is just the conflict scene before all is resolved and the bar will burst into applause while they kiss and make up. Every couple needs a bit of spice right?

_There's bad lines being drawn,  nobody's right if everybody's wrong._

Weaving his way around the tables, Stensland noticed the general hum of friendly chatter had severely dropped. The patrons who only seconds ago looked relaxed and friendly had now shifted at his sudden appearance muttering to one another, casting significant looks at him with a kind of awe and even disbelief at his audacity to show his face here. Maybe he was imagining, surley word hadn’t got around so quick?

Shaking off his paranoia, Stensland squared up and made his way to the bar. Standing in front of Clyde, he waited patiently until Clyde greeted him. Clyde ignored him, scrubbing the counter even more vigorously. He looked tired but determined .

_Young people speaking their minds, getting so much resistance from behind._

Stensland could feel every pair of eyes in the joint on his back apart from Clyde’s. Taking the plunge, Stensland decided to open the dialogue  with a small “hi”. He was met with silence. Pressing on he meekly added, “I know what you heard was probably a bit devastating-”

Clyde had stopped scrubbing, but still wasn't looking at him. Taking this as a positive, Stensland pushed on, “but i just wanted you to know that, I haven't been using you .I genuinely feel-”

Clyde narrowed his eyes at him and cut him off abruptly, “I heard everything of importance,” he bit out, “I don’t think there's anything left to discuss.” Stensland felt his heart shrivel, this was the coldest look he had received from him, Clyde’s face had always been full of warmth and small quiet smiles, now this man had gone to be replaced by a impassive man who gave him the blankest of looks. He was no more of a significance  in Clyde’s life than a fly on his windscreen.

“Clyde please,” voice croaky, he tried to reach out to take his hand but Clyde abruptly moved out of his reach. That stung more than anything. Clyde had always been receptive to his touch and had never shunned him. He tried to think of what he wanted too say, _it's not what you thought, this is not the way I intended you to find out. Please hear me out. Don't leave me._

 “I love you”

 Clyde’s jaw hardened. “Don’t lie,” his mechanical fingers twitched, “if that's  true you would have said it last night, when we were-.” . His sentence trailing off, clearly too painful to finish.

 “I’m not lying,” Stensland said weekly, pressing his keys deeply into the palm of his hand in the hope the pain will help him concentrate on not crying.

_Paranoia strikes deep, into your life it will creep,_

“Must have been hard all that pretending”, Clyde continued, voice hollow as if Stensland had never spoke. “Did it disgust you when i kissed you? Did you have to think of someone just to get through it?” Clyde was hyperventilating, rubbing his temples with his good hand. “I knew it, Jimmy warned me, i was letting things happen too fast”.

Feeling the whole of the bars’s eyes press into his back, Stensland choose his next words very carefully, hyper aware that if he hurt Clyde any more today, he was likely to get lynched. Watching Clyde breathe unevenly, Stensland finally admitted quietly,  “No one has ever been as interested in me as you have….I’ve never had that before,” taking a shuddering breath Stensland meekly adds, “I’m so sorry. I was just lonely and you were so sweet and-”

“Jesus! If you’re lonely you buy a dog” Clyde snapped, gaze heated and jaw clenched, “You don't trick someone into thinking they feel the same way about you.”

Stensland has never seen Clyde angry before. His fists are clenched and he is visibly shaking. For one wild moment Stensland thinks he's going to be punched for the second time in his life.  And then as if it hadn’t happened, all the tension from his shoulders suddenly evaporates, and Clyde slumps most of his weight against the counter, looking defeated, tired and sad.

“I think you should go. It clear to me now this was not meant to be”. Pushing away from the bar with his good hand, he turned  back to the wall, to start rearranging bottles almost as if the conversation had never took place.

“Clyde, please let's talk about it, I really-”

“Go, just go”. Although the command was unyielding and steady, Stensland spotted his artificial hand trembling betraying the internal hurt that Clyde felt.

Not wanting to cause any more grief, Stensland slowly made his way out of the bar. No longer pretending to not be earwigging, the patrons stared openly at him with a mixed looks of pity, disgust and distrust.

_Stop! Hey what’s that sound, everybody look what’s going down._

Stensland could feel a lump start to lodge itself in the back of his throat and his eyes felt wet and itchy. He longed for the cathartic of a good long cry, but the scrap of pride that he still had, demanded he at least wait until he was alone before the water works started.

Stumbling his way out of the bar, Stensland took big gulps of the evening air in an attempt to stop the panic attack that was creeping up his spine and settling in his chest. There would never be anything to look forward to again, nothing waiting to reward his long hours of trying to flog pseudo elegant furniture to the unappreciative population of Boone county. No one would be showing up with bags of his favourite store bought candy twined around their forearms, smiling gently at him, pulling him out of himself when his head got too busy.

It was over.

 

~*~

 

The wonderful weeks that had been filled with hazy autumn days of reds and oranges had finally given way to winter, where the fields around where Stensland lived had celebrated with a bountiful harvest of golden crops. Now harvested, all was left was bare land stretching endless in every direction, withered, neglected and decaying.

Much like Stensland’s social life.

Only a few weeks ago it had been filled with barbeques and late nights watching discovery channel, leaning against a warm sturdy presence who would stroke the inside of his wrist while absatmindely smelling his hair and smiling into his neck.

Now his life stretched out predictably beige before him, he'd come home from work and get high, watch Dawson’s Creek and then go to bed when the tiredness itching around his eyes got to much. Rinse and repeat. On the days he had off, he trapsed around the local supermarket, getting the essential avoiding acustoriay glares and then scurry back to his shabby house to lick his wounds.

The house would always be dark empty, no one waiting to pick him up and whisk him away for a inprotue adventure.  Now that winter had finally raised its sleepy white head, with oppressive dark evenings, Stensland found himself just turning on all his lights to try and prevent the hollowness that was engulfing his chest.

Lying on his ice blue sofa, Stensland tried not to remember Clyde’s careful worship of his body, nor the tender way he whispered ‘ _Darlin’_ into his ear as he made love to him.

Even self involved Taylor looked a bit concerned with his lackluster approach to work. Even going as far to offer one of her treasured Oreos and a sympathetic smile. Stensland supposed he should be grateful for her offer of friendship, since he recently been found sorely lacking in that department, but couldn't bring himself to mutter even a ‘thank you’ as he stuffed as many as he could into his mouth without gagging.

Shutting up shop after a long tedious shift, Stensland contemplated what flavour ice cream he would indulge in tonight, not that it mattered after watching so many sad rom coms, his tears made everything taste the same.

Pulling into his street, Stensland started when he saw a blue pickup truck in his driveway. Heart skipping a beat, he pulled up closer...could it be? But on closer inspection his heart sank, it wasn't the right shade of blue, there was no tell sign of rust on the corner of the bumper, and the seats looked new, no sign of well worn leather in sight.

Sat on his porch was also an unexpected sight of Jimmy, watching him with a trade mark Logan unreadable expression. Dressed in his orange jumpsuit and a padded jacket and a baseball cap. He’d clearly come straight from work.

Worry clenched at Stensland’s stomach, for Jimmy to have driven this far something awful must have happened.

“Is he okay? Did something happen at the bar? Did he have another panic attack?”

Jimmy doesn't answer at first, but grabs the porch beam to give him leverage to stand up straight. Brushing off invisible dust off his pants, he glances at Stensland’s front door.

“Can we go inside for a bit? I’ve been driving for awhile and could murder a drink.”

Stensland gaped at him for a few seconds, before coming to his senses. Digging around in his pocket, he wriggled his keys out and unlocked the door. Well aware of the mess he had been living in the past few weeks, Stensland charged forwards and tried to shield most of the mess from Jimmy. Pushing various takeaway boxes off the table he attempted to make some semblance of order in the chaos that was takeaway menus, unopened letters and some disregarded washing that he had yet to get round to sorting, as well as an embarrassing Bridget Jones’s diary soundtrack. Jimmy didn’t need to know he had spent the previous evening warbling drunkenly to Celine Dion’s ‘All by Myself’.

“Right, so a drink”, Stensland turned and opened his fridge. Back to Jimmy, Stensland cringed, like Clyde, Jimmy drank manly man drinks and he very much doubted that he would be impressed with his array of tropical fruit fizz or shameful baby shamp. “Umm is Orange juice okay?”

“OJ would be great,” Jimmy said, “Much appreciated.”

After pouring him a glass, Stensland watches him, quivering with excess self-awareness despite standing completely still. He can’t help it, whatever Jimmy has come about it can’t be good. Something has clearly happened to warrant this visit, either Clyde has fallen desperately ill, or Clyde has asked Jimmy a brotherly favour of having Stensland ‘redistributed’.

But Jimmy doesn’t look particularly upset nor does he look ready to skin Stensland. He’s looking around the room with a vague interest, taking in Stensland’s general mess and clutter.

“Ah Notting Hill”, Jimmy picks up the dvd that Stensland had cast aside haphazardly, “Is that the one where his kid goes on that radio show about his dead mom and then Meg Ryan ends up stalking his dad all the way to NY?”

Thrown for a second, Stensland frowns. “No you’re thinking of Sleepless in Seattle. Notting Hill is the one where Hugh Grant falls for the movie star.”

“Arr you’re right. Man I thought I had all these romcoms down,” he smiles ruefully. “Sylvia and Sadie would be disappointed with me.”

Tired of the dancing around, Stensland cuts to the chase, “Jimmy, what are you really doing here?” Hands on his waist, he attempts to puff himself up abit.

Jimmy places the dvd on the table and gives him a long look, mouth set in a long hard line.  “Clyde’s not himself. Ever since whatever went down with you too- and i don't need to know the details”, waving his hand when Stensland tried to interrupt, “but I know its killing him. He’s depressed, moody and adrift. Just generally a a right party to be around.  You need to suck it up and make it up.”

“He ended it not me,” Stansland said, sinking dejectedly into a rickety chair, head in hands. The cluttering tension in his stomach eases now that the real reason for Jimmy’s visit is clear.

Arms folded, legs braced in a rigid stance, brows pinched, Jimmy surveys him with an unimpressed look upon his face. “Wow. I never figured you were a quitter. When you were sat under that tree in my backyard. I figured theres a man who knows what he has in life, and knows how lucky he is and here you are crying your eyes out every night feeling sorry for yourself.”

Stensland raised his head abruptly at the slight, “Hey! I don’t cry my eyes out _every_ night, its like...every other night. And I did go after him, but he turned me away. So I don't know what you expect me to do?”

“Then go after him again.” Jimmy insisted, fitsts clench convulsively

“Are you deliberately ignoring everything I have to say?” Stensland asked incurisley. “He ended it. It’s over. He doesn’t want me.”

“Now here's the thing. I think your wrong. The man is pining for you. PINING! He doesn't eat, hes not sleeping, he's working himself to the bone to get ya out of his head. I’ve never seen him like this before. Sure you had a fight and maybe it was your fault, but ya gotta prove to him that your better for the fight, prove to him your a better man and that you belong in his life.”

Stensland shakes his head, “I don’t think you understand, he’s never going to forgive or get over what happened.”

Jimmy takes a deep exhale, looks out at the unwashed kitchen windows, off to the fridge, and back at Stensland. Hints of expression, quivering at his lips and narrowing at his eyes, flicker across his face, but never fully resolve. Stensland gets the impression, Jimmy is trying to work out which will be more effective, punching him or shouting at him. The later wins out.

“Well get creative, try and find a way. Because I tell you in the couple of months that you guys were dating, I have never seen my brother look so carefree and happy.  You don’t know what it was like when he came back from overseas, he was a shell of a man and yer he did slowly manage to patch himself up but it wasn’t till you barged in that I didn’t really fully appreciate how much of my brother had been absent from our lives. He cracked jokes a lot easier, heck he sang in the shower, and offered to go places. Like he was a new man, and you were the one that brought him to life.” Jimmy tried to hide the depth of gratitude in his eyes, by coughing into his hand, but Stensland sees it, and truth be told it only hurts a little.  “I don't care what it takes, or how you do it, just fix it.”

And with that he left, with Stensland watching his retreating back gormlessly.

Damn these Logans.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking me with so long. I didn't think I'd ever get this finished, but all your lovely comments kept me going :)

The club is tiled with that black sparkly glass that seems to be all the rage now, voices shouting indistinctly over the boom that is house music. Stensland scowls, what's the point of going out dancing if there isn't even a steady groove to dance too? Stensland could feel it reverberate in his chest, bodies slamming against each other, the stickiness of the floor makes him grimace. Elbowing his way to the bar, he internally bemoans the state of his jacket which will now smell strongly of cigarettes and several kinds of cheap cologne.

Exhaustion tugs at his legs (he’d come straight from work) but he presses on till he spots a free stool at the bar. Stensland hated bars when Grady dragged him to them, and he hates them now, but it's with a renewed purpose that he’s enduring this crowded cesspit. It’s for Clyde. Everything he does is for Clyde.

It had been Taylor’s idea. Sick of his moping she had given him a firm shake of the shoulders and given him a pep talk that could have rivaled his god fearing Irish mother.

“Look, Clyde isn't sad that you considered yourself straight before you met him, he's just paranoid that your going to get bored with him and return to your old habits.”

“But I don't know what I am right now, all I know is that I love Clyde,” he replied miserably, shoulders sagging under the weight of his unhappiness.

“Its not about what you are!” Taylor replied, “ Its about proving to Clyde that he’s the one you want and no one else is going to take his place.”

So here he was on a Friday evening, holed up in some god awful club, cradling a fruity concoction, that had nothing on Clyde’s drinks, waiting for some kind epiphany that proved to Clyde that he was legit.

Whilst taking a sip of the overpriced sorry excuse for a cocktail, Stensland felt someone brush up against him and purch on the seat next to him. A hand with abundance of jangly bracelets waved in his peripheral vision in the direction of the bartender. Reeling off with a heavy West coast accent, the body next to him brightly asked, “ Two Manhattans, one whisky neat, four Cosmopolitans and one h2o on the rocks.”

With a nod and approving ‘yes mam’, the bartender gets to work. Turning in his seat to see who had put in the impressive order, Stensland is met with a wave of flowery fragrance that makes his nostrils twitch in irritation. Decked out in a figure hugging yellow spaghetti dress is a woman in her early thirties, leaning against the bar with a confident air she wears a permanent smile.

“Gosh, I hope your ubers booked.”

“Nope the aquas for me, its my sisters bday and I'm the designated driver.”

“Safety first,” Stensland replied thumping his fist down on the bar for emphasis, “I like it!”

Turning to give him her full attention, Stensland marvels at her cropped white blonde hair that curls like quotation marks around her ears and wonders if its natural or if its a bottle job. She’s bitten her lip, obviously trying to suppress a snort,  attempting to maintain some sort of semblance of lady like behaviour.

“Wow, with an accent like that you must be pretty far from home,” leaning an elbow on the bar she gives him a once other, eyes dancing with bemusement. “What brings you to West Virginia?”

Despite his intentions for coming to this darkly lit hell hole, Stensland immediately brightens about the prospect of talking about himself; A subject he is well versed in. He gives her a well rehearsed speal of orphan come to America for a better life, working towards a high flying marketing job, his love of Denny’s and his worship of Dawson’s Creek.

At the mention of the former TV show, the lady’s eyes immediately light up and she suddenly focuses on him with intensity that startles him. “Oh my god, what did you think of the ending of season three? Do you think Dawnson’s writing was lame as fuck? I just couldn’t get my head round it and what about the story  arc of season four I was on the edge of my seat, did you see it coming?”

For a moment Stensland can only gape at her, hands still nearly brushing her fingertips that are placed conveniently closed to his. He takes his time studying the woman next to him as she prattles on about the details of her favourite episode. Smiley eyes are framed by long lashes, her skin is tan and unblemished, unlike Stensland’s patchy freckles that are randomly dotted on his unappealing milky white skin. She has the face of Miss America, perfectly proportioned, cheerful disposition, she’s his ticket for the start of a happy life.

The woman smiles and her wrinkles pull up around her eyes. She is very beautiful. It would be very easy to get her number. Stensland can almost see it now, the wedding could be in May, she’d wear pale pink lipstick that would match her bouquet, they’d buy a house near a river with a cute little vegetable patch, they’d get a dog and then eventually children would come along.

They’d be no time for late night Scrabble, no silly discussions about discovery channel and no pointless tutorials on the correct way to play snooker, that didn't end with hot make out sessions on the pool table after the bar had closed for the night. There be no Clyde, and without Clyde what would be the point?

It would be easy to lean forward and kiss her, there's a good chance she would reciprocate, judging from the way she keeps sending him flirty smiles and glances at his mouth is any indication.  He could simply lean across the gap of mere inches that separates them, press their mouths together, and form an union that would cement their white picket life together.

_Like lighting a match a lonely figure hunched over dirty glasses flickered into his fantasy. Lonely and sad Clyde would be shutting up  shop right about now and getting ready for the drive home, there would be no one there waiting up for him to ask him how his shift went, or offer to warm up some dinner or even provide a soothing cuddle after the wear and tear of the day, gently working the tangles out of his hair as he combs it with his fingers humming a soft tune easing Clyde off to sleep._

_The thought of Clyde getting into a cold lonely bed after a tiring day at work makes Stensland’s gut twist unpleasantly._

Instead of leaning in, Stensland pulls his hand away, clasping it in the other on his lap.  “It was sure nice to meet you”, standing up from the bar, inclining his head, “but I’ve forgot I’ve got to meet someone special. Take care now.”

Leaving the lady with a dumbfounded expression, Stensland attempted to weave his way through the sea of bodies.  Clyde. His heart beat for Clyde and Clyde alone.

~*~

It had taken Stensland an agonising thirty minutes to work up the courage to get out of his car and knock on Clyde’s door. He had internally argued back and forth about his strategy, but all of them had ended with him throwing himself at Clyde’s feet sobbing uncontrollably asking to be taken back.

Gritting his teeth, Stensland tried to summon all the spirits from every rom com he had ever watched. This was the climatic ending when the dashing hero professed his love using eloquent flowery language, usually in front of a crowd of well wishers who would clap appropriately when their lips met tentatively after a heartful tender love confession. The sun would shine, birds would chirp approvingly and the film’s score would drown out the rest.

There was no crowd though outside of Clyde’s lodge, just the sound of distant cicadas and a wet misty dark night that made navigating the path to Clyde’s door unnerving. Shaking off his nerves, Stensland raised his hand and knocked on the front door, the echo seemed to carry for an eternity before he was met with the sound of someone shuffling to get to the door. Followed by a muffled,  “I’ma coming, I’ma coming.”

Clyde answered the door, bare chested wearing loose navy pajama bottoms,  looking like he was just about ready for bed. “Stensland, what are you doing here?” Opening the door wider, the hallway light cast a halo on him, highlighting every mole and every well sculpted muscle. Clyde crossed his arms over his chest self consciously as he waited for an answer.

All wooing language that Stensland had hoped to use quickly evaporated from his mind, and all he was left with was a blank page, as he gormlessly stared at Clyde. Stensland could practically feel himself getting hotter all over, from his toes, to his chest, to his cheeks, a rosy red blossoming across his skin. This is what happened when he spent too much time away from Clyde, his immunity from Clyde’s handsomeness diminished, until he was reunited and  reduced to a gibberish mess. His heart rate picked up, beating even faster as he tried to think of something that didn't end with him sobbing everywhere.

After a few minutes of silence, Clyde blinked hard and pushed the door wider, “You better come in then.”  Watching Clyde’s retreating back, Stensland shyly followed him, despite his unhappiness he revelled in the warmth of Clyde’s home. West Virginia nights were not kind and in comparison Clyde’s home felt like being embraced by an old friend; comforting and safe.

Shuffling into the well lit kitchen, Stensland is at a loss to try and describe the emotion written on Clyde’s face. There's lines on his forehead that weren't there last month. His eyes look like they are grieving, but it's deeper than that, deeper than sorrow and all Stensland wants to do is reach out soothe him and take the pain away.

Opening the fridge, Clyde stares inside, determinedly looking everywhere but Stensland. “Do you want a drink or somat?”

“No, no, no, no”, Stensland replies, relieved to find his voice has returned, his fingers gripping the edge of his shirt in fitsfuls in an attempt to try and contain his nerves, “I’m good thanks, but thank you for asking.”

Shutting the fridge with a decisive slam that startles Stensland, Clyde lets out a long quiet sigh, leans back against the fridge with his arms folded over his chest. He looks smaller than Stensland is used to. He doesn’t like it, Clyde isnt supposed to look so vulnerable and upset.

“Did you come round to have a good laugh then? Come to see how I’m doing?”, Clyde asked tonelessly addressing the kettle on the counter, still refusing to look at Stensland, “Feeling a bit lonely or something? Well I’m sorry but my quota for taking out fake gay boys has been met.”

“What? No Clyde-” Stensland spluttered, “I came because I missed you! I’d never laugh at you, I loved the time we spent together, there was never a moment when I did not enjoy myself with your company. And I know I was uncertain at the beginning but please don't ever doubt for one second that i “faked” ever wanting you, because that couldn't be further from the truth!”

There’s a flicker of a reaction in Clyde’s face; his already fair skin heates by the barest degree, before he recovers and continues staring resolutely at the opposite wall, arms tightening around himself, as if to protect himself from future barbs Stensland might throw.

“That’s a mighty fine thing to say now, but there's no getting away from the fact you lied to me-”

“I didn’t lie, I just failed to mention-”

“It's still a lie,” Clyde snapped, finally giving Stensland his full attention. Stalking forward he pushed Stensland back to the kitchen wall and it was only now he could fully appreciate Clyde’s strength. Jaw set, mouth set in a firm line, Clyde didn’t break his stare, “ You twisted the truth to suit your needs and I got hurt.”

The tips of Clyde’s ears color and all the kindness , all the softness that is Clyde, is gone in an instant, like it was never there, as he retreats back under his expressionless mask, and, really, truly, Stensland deserves to get punched in the face by him at some point, he really does.

“Clyde please”, Stensland begged, he could feel his eyes water and throat tighten, but with a new found determination he pressed on, “I know you’re hurt and I’m so sorry, I never dreamt of inflicting any pain on you, but you were so thoughtful and considerate I thought you’d be a nice distraction. And you were so much more than that”, Stensland added hurriedly at the sight of Clyde’s shoulders dropping, “ You care’d about me more than anyone, you actively got involved in my hobbies because it would make me happy, and I found I wanted to do the same for you as well, and before I knew you were my ‘one’, the person I wanted to be with rain or shine and I wanted to be your ‘one’ too.”

Taking a deep breath Stensland took strength from the fact that Clyde was still listening to him, although he was watching him with wariness. Timidley Stensland continued, “Tonight I went to a club and I got chatted up by this pretty lady who loved Dawson’s Creek. She was everything 6 months ago me would have wanted, body, hobbies, brains, but she wasn’t you. And while she was there sat next to me going on about her favourite episode, all I could think about was you being unhappy, and if you’re unhappy then I don’t even stand a chance. You’re the kindest soul I’ve ever met and if you let me, I’d like to spend the rest of my life loving you.”

Stensland’s heart pounds in his chest, face flushed and his fingernails digging into his palm. He’s talked for too long, rambled, said too much, and he’s still half sure Clyde  is about to kick him out, without so much as a bye.

“Is that from a film or something?” Clyde asks, a hint of humour and warmth entwined in the question.

“No its um- from a  Hallmark card,” Stensland mumbled, biting his lip he waits patiently daring to hope that he has been forgiven.

“Oh”, Clyde reaches up and tucks a cowlick behind Stensland’s ear, the barest touch sending goosebumps down his spine, “I like it.”

Stensland feels a smile spread across his face as Clyde’s eyes glitter with the emotion he so often tries to hide from all others. “I love you,” Stensland says, voice little more than a whisper as they stand together, foreheads touching in a well lit kitchen at 3 in the morning, the only sound is the buzz of fireflies tapping against the window.

Stensland feels a weight lift from his chest, it feels like he’s received a benediction, he’s finally found his home, and its in Clyde’s arms. Stensland emotionally bathes in the warmth and peace that Clyde is radiating, simply marvelling in the luck he has had at getting a second chance at this.

Clyde smells like bed, freshly cut grass and some essence that is purely Clyde. His sleep mussed hair tickles Stensland’s cheek as he rests his head in the space between Stensland’s neck and shoulder, breathing him in with shaky inhales. Stensland doesn't comment on the wetness that he can feel through the collar of shirt, just revels in the warmth that bleeds through his jacket from Clyde’s arms that have circled around his waist.

There not completely fixed, Stensland knows there will be upcoming fights and disagreements about superficial things, but for now with Clyde’s heart beating a steady reassuring rhythm under his palm, he’s confident things will work out and they will find their path together. Hands entwined, shoulder to shoulder, ready to face whatever the world throws at them.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
